Memories
by Rhysla
Summary: Random Anna Karenina fic - kittylevin. Levin starts to snap as Kitty continuously toys with him, ignoring her own feelings to be more accepted in society.
1. Part 1

Anna Karenina does not belong to me, thank God, but was though up but Tolstoy. FYI. Give him the credit. I've only read the first two parts so if someone died and I didn't acknowledge that, I'm sorry. Deal with it. And yes, I know Kitty does marry Levin in the book. So sue me. Also note that all random names are from the list of characters in the front of the book. As for this piece, it was an English homework assignment (my teacher said it was "unlikely"), but I really liked it, so it edited it (and lengthened it), and here it is. This is my first real fic, and I wrote some of it during Chem (fascinating subject, really! *gag*) and the rest while listening to random music. Enough said. Anyway, please R&R!  
  
Memories  
By Rhysla  
  
Part I  
"She had never imagined that the voicing of his love would make such a  
strong impression on her."  
~ 1 ~  
  
Constantine Levin drummed his fingers nervously on his polished cherry-wood desk. His guest was due to arrive any minute now. He straightened his collar, keeping one eye on the long, dirt lane that led to his front door. He let his mind wander to try and ease his anxiety, and soon found himself reflecting on his life before. Before the scandal. Before she left. On such days as those he would spend a pleasant day in the city. Visiting his friends, and taking special care to spend time with Kitty. Kitty. He loved everything about her, including the perfect symmetry of her name. He loved the way it sounded when spoken in the crisp winter air. Loved the way the sound of it rolled off his tongue into her ears, the ears of a goddess on earth. Kitty. She was the guest he was waiting for. Kitty had professed her love to Alexis Vronsky two years ago, only to discover that he was deeply in love with Anna, the sister of Kitty's older sister's husband. Crushed, Kitty had fled the city, and had stayed with a distant aunt in the south for the duration of almost 23 months. Now she was home, after a short tour of the country. Two years. It was hard to believe. Two winters had passed, in which Levin could not skate with Kitty. Two Christmases had gone, in which Levin could not go to fancy parties and enjoy himself with Kitty. Two of her birthdays, which he could not celebrate with Kitty. Two long years. Now Kitty had reached 20 years of age. But Levin was too shy to ask again. He had told himself long ago that he would live and be happy without marriage. He would stick to that oath, but he still longed to see Kitty again. Levin did not doubt that she still retained her marvelous beauty. She would always be beautiful. Levin wanted to be there to witness that beauty, and watch it grow rather than fade away. Lost in his thought, he did not notice a large black carriage ambling along the lane until the horses had reached his front door, and were pawing the ground impatiently. Startled from his daydream, Levin walked rather stiffly to the door to greet his visitor. Kitty was back in the city now, and she intended to stay there, sheltered by her father. Kitty's mother had become ill when Kitty left for her aunt's little cottage. She grew steadily worse, until the consumption overwhelmed her frail body. She could have survived, but she had no will to fight it. Her daughter had left, and so had her spirit. Kitty's father was grief-stricken, and Kitty herself became a small shadowed ghost upon hearing of it. Kitty had not been of flesh again until only three weeks past. The sparkle was beginning to return to her eyes, but Levin felt that Kitty didn't want the sparkle anymore. She wanted to remain indiscreet and transparent, which was what she had become. Levin threw open the wide carved doors, and smiled cheerily at Kitty's driver. The driver did not return the favor, but merely dismounted from the carriage, and opened the black-laced door. Levin went to the carriage, and offered a calloused hand to the darkness. A slender white hand was placed in his, and Kitty Shcherbatskaya stepped into the hard country sunlight.  
  
~ 2 ~  
  
She was exactly as Levin remembered her, but for the slight addition of crow's feet at her striking eyes. Levin did not notice this subtle change at first. He was in awe of her, and of himself for having lived so long without being in the company of this Venus incarnate. "Konstantín! How are you?" she asked in a lilting voice that could pale the countenance of a white daisy. "Flourishing, my dear. But how are you? That trip seems to have tired you greatly," replied Levin, concern in his deep eyes. She laughed politely. "Kóstya, don't worry about me. Now, would you mind giving me a tour of your charming house?" She offered him a thin delicate arm, and he looped his large arm gratefully, but rather clumsily in hers. A smile reached Kitty's lips, and reflected in her eyes. Levin was still the same charming, and slightly oafish person, although she thought playfully that his lack of grace was slightly due to his love for her. She was glad that only her eyes were windows to her soul and that her eyes were directed towards the acres of forest and meadow land. It wouldn't do for him to see into her soul just now. The small flowering shrubs were drifting lazily in the wind, seemingly without a care in the world. Kitty envied their carefree swaying. They shared their happy thoughts with all who would see them. She could not bear for Levin to know what was in her heart. She loved him as well. Ever since he had courted her older sisters, Levin had always been kindly to her. His kindness and affection had grown until his eventual proposal. That was before. Before those times, when nobody trusted or cared about anybody else. Sighing inwardly, she reasoned that much hadn't changed. No one had paid any attention to her return unless they were digging for gossip and the seeds of rumors. Kitty was now terrified of those who had been her dearest friends. Kitty had no prestige in the elite class since her disappearance. She missed that status, and had plans that had amounted to an obsession to rejoin that life of wine and fancy parties. Since her mother had died, everyone seemed to think that she was broken; a small, empty shell, devoid of light. She would play this part, for a while. She would be a small phantom for now. Then she would return in all glory to the life she wanted. The life she believed she was meant for. Her mother had always told her that if she kept in the middle of the circle, nothing could touch her. But her mother had neglected to mention that as rich as the Shcherbatskaya family was, its members were still human, and not immune to pain. Kitty had realized this for the first time, when she declined Levin's offer of marriage. Her mother had hated Levin, but her father seemed to believe him a proper match for Kitty. But that was the past. Kitty looked over at Levin, still smiling. She had hated to turn him down, but she had hoped that Vronsky was in love with her. Kitty was just as disappointed as Levin. Both had professed their love, only to find that the receiving party had someone else in their minds and hearts. Levin seemed to have forgotten. She would make him think that she had as well. "Konstantín, this villa is splendid, all this open space. But don't you get lonely here, all alone in the country? Moscow is so very far away." Kitty's eyes were unreadable, aside from a thin glaze of happy unconcern. Her delicate smile was still set in place. "This place suits me. I like to keep to myself, present company excluded, of course," he added, mockingly hastily. Kitty's smile lengthened, and she nodded at Levin. Levin smiled back, glad that Kitty still favored his slight humor. "And you even have a small pond! How wonderful! Oh, the days we used to spend on the skating pond in Moscow. Do you remember, Konstantín?" "Fond memories, yes, but they are not much more." Levin was shocked at himself. How could he have said that? Part of him was still upset that Kitty had done what her mother told her without listening to her own heart, but the rest of him still loved her. Levin looked away, scared that Kitty would see his face and read it, correctly or not. Kitty was shocked at well. She did not know if Levin meant this, or if something else inside of him made him say it. Levin hurriedly changed the subject. "Would you like to accompany me to the annual ball at the Andréevna's when I visit Moscow?" he asked quietly, asking himself why he even bothered. Kitty wasn't sure if she wanted to show Levin that she could fight fire with fire. Before she had completed her reasoning, she declined. "I am sorry, Konstantín, but I have plans for that night. There is a new opera performance that night. I do not wish to be absent from such a display of drama and art." "Very well. Perhaps we will see each other another time," he replied, straining to say each word with out emotion. Kitty turned away from Levin, walking towards her coach, parked in the drive. Levin followed her, wishing for the nightmare to end. But Kitty stomped straight over to the door, wrenching it open, without even waiting for the footman. The horses seemed to sense their mistress's distress, and whinnied loudly, trampling the dry earth with shoed hooves. Their black eyes locked with Levin's momentarily, as if daring him to distress their mistress more. Levin continued past the horses, to the carriage door. He opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced when the lace draperies were pulled shut, enclosing Kitty in a bubble of silence and black.  
  
~ 3 ~  
  
The next day Levin felt as if he had drunken a bottle of his brother's old vodka. His head pounded endlessly, and his eyes were red from restrained weeping. He spent the day setting his affairs in order, as he would be leaving for Moscow that evening. The Petritsky's ball seemed to loom ever closer as each hour passed. Finally, after the sun had long set, and there was no denying that the clock read 8:45, Levin pulled on his traveling cloak with a sigh, and climbed into the back of his large carriage.  
After a few hours, Levin was jolted out of his slight stupor as the carriage shuddered to a halt. They had arrived at his town house in Moscow. A small, homey place, it was well furnished, and reminded Levin of his country estate. He helped the doorman bring his luggage into the entryway, and then heaved his heavy bags up a flight of stairs. After some hasty unpacking, he collapsed into bed. The party was still drawing nearer. He drew a spark of happiness when he thought that he might see Kitty there, but then it died when he remembered that Kitty was going to be at an opera.  
  
Fine. If Kitty was going to the opera, then so was he. He dragged himself out of bed, his new hope surging through his veins. Flipping through a newspaper downstairs, he found the opera listings, and saw that a new performance was indeed starting the night of the Petritsky's party. A rendition of Shakespeare. Levin would be there. He quickly penned a note to the Petritskys, telling them that he would not be attending the party after all. The next night he dressed in thick but discreet furs. He did not want to attract attention. If he saw Kitty at the opera, then he would say that he was meeting a friend. But whom? He did not know many people in the city, and he doubted that any of that number would be there. And what if she didn't believe him? Levin began to tremble slightly. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Resolutely, he strolled outside. He would wait at the theater all night, if it meant seeing Kitty. He would make her believe him. He would apologize and ask for forgiveness. He was sure it would work. Kitty was kind; she would forgive him. As Levin reached the theater he started to tremble anew. The reality of what lay before him was too much. He loved Kitty and he knew it. Now he just had to make her know it as well.  
  
~ 4 ~  
  
Kitty shivered in the cool Moscow wind. Her dressmaker had assured Kitty that this dress was the latest fashion, but why did it have to be so light? And so low-cut for that matter. The cold had to be endured, she thought. After the fitting for the dress, and the hour spent perfecting her lip rogue, Kitty was definitely attending the social event. The opera was a grand way to strengthen old ties, and as she was almost cut off from Russia's elite, these ties would help her to secure her old space in the circle. She shivered again, this time not from the cold. How could she have said those things to Levin? She still loved him, deep in her soul, and even if she didn't admit that truth, Levin was her friend in the least. Friends don't lie, she thought, and neither will I. Kitty immediately returned to her drawing room, and sent an urgent telegraph to her friend Madame Várenka to see if a last-minute invitation to the ball could be secured.  
  
~ 5 ~  
  
The graceful words of the opera were lost upon Levin. The production company was from England, and so the entire feel of the play was barbaric to Levin. Their horses reflect the only things the English ever do right. Levin slumped moodily into his furs. The opera air was warm, but he was still cold. Kitty's harsh words gritted upon his mind. He felt as if Jack Frost and Cupid were spinning tops inside his head. Carving through his mind, reaching his soul. Levin sighed. Kitty had not arrived yet. A few times, he thought he caught a glimpse of her radiant hair, or heard the high lilt of her laugh. But each time it was an imposter, and every imposter seemed to laugh at him, and scorn his love. Levin's eyes narrowed with anger. Why did they mock him as well? Perhaps Kitty sent them there, to giggle at him. Each wave of sound a dagger to his heart.  
By the time the opera had ended, Levin was almost fuming. Kitty had planned this all. She told him she would come, and then did not. She did this to hurt him; he knew it. But then Levin thought of Kitty's smile. And the way her eyes lit up when she was happy. Every bad thought melted away with Levin's final sigh. He loved Kitty with all of his heart. Levin stood up, limbs creaking from either nonuse, or from the emptiness in his soul.  
  
~ 6 ~  
  
Kitty's fortune was better, if still in the end unsuccessful. The ball was wonderful, the food excellent. And Kitty was sure that her social status had raised a notch of two. She flirted with every soldier and diplomat there, and gossiped with every city lady. She would constantly raise her head throughout the night, eyes searching for her old friend. He had said he would be there. Kitty knew that Levin was a man who would stick to his word. If that was so, then where was he? A dilemma besides not seeing Levin was seeing Levin. Kitty's main goal was to reconcile her feelings, but she wondered if her newly reborn social conscience would allow her to chat, or even look at Levin. For all his manners and good graces, Levin was still a farmer, plain and simple. Kitty had just re- entered this new life of diamond shards and light. She did not know if she could risk it for a friend. By the end of the night she told herself that she was lucky to not have had to make that choice. Levin did not show. Fleeting panicky thoughts jumped through her head. Was Levin hurt? Had his carriage struck a rock on the way? Was he lying injured somewhere? Alone?  
But then Kitty opened her eyes and saw the crystal world she had missed so much. Levin would be fine. She could enjoy this fairyland tonight. Tomorrow she would worry. Tomorrow she would care.  
  
~ 7 ~  
  
Darya Shcherbatskaya woke up early the next morning, planning to take a morning stroll with her two children. The sunlight was a picture show upon the snow, and Dolly was enjoying this version of theater as she dressed herself in warm clothing. Her maid was now assisting the children to follow suit. Gathering her skirts together, she walked down the stairs and into the crisp air of the foyer. Tanya was the first down. Dolly smiled to herself. Tanya would leave the household as soon as a suitable husband was found. Dolly cherished this time she spent with her. Within a few moments, the rest of the children had tumbled down the stairs, and were waiting anxiously for their mother to lead them out. Grisha finally broke the silence.  
"Mama?" he questioned innocently.  
"Yes, of course." Dolly had been caught up in a short moment of peace. All of her children were happy, as was she. Dolly nodded to one of the attendants standing nearby. He bowed to his mother, and then opened on the large brass doors, cutting an elegant leg, as if the maelstrom of snow and cold was a grand ball, which, in a sense, it was.  
After their walk, Dolly and the children returned home to hot drink and a fire. A few of the children had fallen asleep when Dolly felt a tap on her shoulder. A maid whispered in her ear that someone had come to call on her.  
Dolly gently lifted Grishna's head off of her lap, and went to the door, her skirts silent from easy practice.  
Upon reaching the guest's parlor, she saw that her visitor was a man, and very nervous. Dolly shut the door with more vigor than she would normally as if to frighten her visitor out of a shell. He looked up, startled, and Dolly then realized that it was Levin.  
"Konstantín! How are you? We haven't spoken for ages, have we?" she asked with a smile.  
"I'm fine, fine. How are the children?" Levin asked, obviously preoccupied.  
"Well. They fare much better than you have, my friend. What is wrong?" Dolly seemed to lace her questions with a motherly aura as potent as alcohol. Levin's defenses collapsed, and the words tumbled out of his mouth.  
"Kitty. It's Kitty. She is everywhere. My heart, my eyes, my mind, she is a goddess of love and nightmares. One of God's Own Angels."  
"Certainly her beauty and grace has not turned into divinity?" questioned Dolly with a soft voice.  
"Oh, but it has. I would not give my care to a messenger of Providence, but I would lay down my life for my own angel. She is the sky, and she is the sun."  
Dolly pursed her lips in thought. Dolly had seen this kind of lovesickness before. Seen it turn into neglecting, rejection, and then adultery.  
"Be careful, Konstantín. Love can tricky," she replied.  
"I know, I know. I've read the authorities, seen Shakespeare's creed in play, and observed the crumbling passion between my friends. I know what love is. I also know that it chooses a different course between every different person. I love Kitty, and she could love me. I think she does. Or she should." With this last sentence, Levin heaved a sigh that could blow the fire from the sun. He blinked tears from his eyes, and smiled weakly at Dolly. Dolly did not know what she should do to comfort her friend.  
"If it helps your thoughts find a direction, my friend, Kitty's heart is not out of your grasp. She feels that she has done you wrong, and would certainly like to remain your acquaintance, if not more. Be persistent and genuine. You might be surprised." With that Dolly reached over and grasped his hand in reassurance. Levin was grateful for the gesture, and clung to her hand as if her hand represented the idol on which his dreams were bent.  
  
"Thank you, Dollinka. I will treasure your council, and try to find the courage to match my words." With a final nod, Levin left the parlor, leaving the door to the whitewashed kitchen open, as if inviting Dolly to follow him and assist him in reaching Kitty's heart.  
  
~ 8 ~  
  
Levin asked his carriage driver to stop in the central square of Moscow for a moment. His starry eyes roved around the plaza until he noticed a young girl selling flowers. He purchased an armful of roses the color of cotton, and pressed a pocketful of coins as well as the change from his purchase into the girl's hand, which was gray with cold and chaffed with work. Her face offered just gratitude, and Levin replied with a smile before ascending the steps into his carriage. He directed that he be taken to the Shcherbatsky's city residence, and spent the time straightening every pearly petal, imagining each another lock to Kitty's soul, opened.  
  
~ 9 ~  
  
Levin straightened his collar as he cautiously ambled up to the Shcherbatsky's home. He licked his lips nervously, and rapped his calloused knuckles on the mahogany door. 'If in bronze, this woodwork could rival Ghiberti,' Levin thought to himself. 'But these are the true gates to Paradise.' At that point Prince Alexander Dmítrievich opened the door, and greeted Levin with a warm smile.  
"Well, this is a pleasant surprise, Levin!" chuckled the elder gentleman amiably.  
"Yes, sir. I was wondering if the young princess was in?" Dmítrievich grinned wryly. He had always believed Levin was a good match for Kitty. Now it seemed his tedious prodding was bearing fruit.  
"I am sorry, Konstantín, but Katerína is at the Garden with an acquaintance of hers. She will return later this evening, unless you plan on calling on her at the rink." He said this all with the air of a wise matchmaker, but in Levin's hopeful eyes, he became one.  
With a polite farewell and a nod of thanks, Levin retreated towards the welcoming shadows of his carriage, the white feathers of snow forming encouraging drifts behind him as he went.  
  
~ 10 ~  
  
He instructed his serving man to head towards the Zoological Gardens, and sat back in the enveloping seat, thinking of everything and nothing. When the driver shouted to him that the carriage had reached its destination, Levin climbed out, and seemed to skip to the lake, imagining himself gliding across its serene service with Kitty in his arms. Levin pulled his coat up to his chin, not wishing to be noticed or recognized at the moment, and asked for a pair of skates. He clumsily put them on, cold fingers fumbling with the ties. But once he was on the ice, he lost his awkwardness, and skated in long circles, his gray eyes roving the waltz performed in the crisp air of winter.  
Levin finally saw Kitty, floating in slow, almost mournful arcs. He pulled the last ounce of mettle he could find from his fingertips, and moved towards Kitty, his feet pushing the ice away as gracefully as he pushed away his own doubts.  
"Kátia, its wonderful to see you again," he said with a smile. Kitty's eyes flashed for a moment, then calmed, and seemed to deepen.  
"I did not expect to see you here, Levin," she replied sharply.  
"Indeed. I had merely hoped we could engage in friendly conversation, forget recent blemishes on our friendship." Kitty smiled again, and this time the smile filtered up to her eyes, and seemed to radiate from them. Levin caught his breath, and his mind swam, as he realized that their love wasn't all spent on spite.  
At that point, Natálya Alexándrovna, Kitty's elder sister, came over towards the pair, as she sensed Kitty needed help in turning away this buffoon. Her toes chipped sharply against the ice as she called out a greeting to Kitty.  
"Princess, how lovely to see you," supplemented Levin. "How is your husband?"  
"He is well." She turned sharply to Kitty. "Why are you consorting with the country gentry so, sister?" Kitty was speechless, appalled at her sister's impression. "What business have you here?" asked Natálya, returning to Levin. Levin stammered an apology, and looked to Kitty for help. But his plea was unanswered.  
Kitty reached for her sister's arm. "Indeed, Konstantín, you have no business here. I will return your visit some other time." Levin slipped backwards, stumbling slightly on a hidden patch of black ice before regaining his balance.  
"Very well," he replied. "By your leave, I will depart. Another time, Princess," he said, nodding his head to Kitty. Kitty kept her eyes hard and leveled, albeit for a small flash of sympathy and apology. Levin caught the flash, but was more annoyed than relieved. If Kitty was to play her own game, then that was for her to decide. Meanwhile, Levin would return home, and reflect. Why had Kitty refused him? A small voice in his soul whispered that the reason was that Kitty was foolish and vain, caring nothing for him or his feelings. The voice said that Kitty was the problem. But Levin silenced the voice, and tried to think of ways in which to win Kitty's heart.  
  
~ 11 ~  
  
Kitty spent the rest of the afternoon with her sister, and then returned home after seeing Natálya off. She awoke the next morning to find that she had received a note from Levin. It was an invitation to a poetry reading in the local book shop the next day, and asked that Kitty attend it as Levin's guest. Kitty had made up her mind to go after a secondary perusal, and contemplated how the situation could possibly occur. And how it could end.  
  
~ 12 ~  
  
She arrived the next morning at the shop, and saw that Levin had been waiting for her. Kitty pretended not to notice him at first, her indifference turning him into a waif, in more than just her own thought. A tired-looking patriarch stepped to the center of the room and began reciting from an ancient tome. Kitty, the least bit interested, circumscribed around the room, while Levin did the same. Levin shot her looks of pitiful devotion, and impatient questioning. Kitty replied in her own fashion. While she did indeed find Levin an agreeable potential partner, Levin was not connected to any of Moscow's fine social circles, and Kitty was even more fiercely determined to keep hold of the one commodity in her life. She gave glances of sympathy altered by stares of aloofness. Her morse code of countenances gave Levin the message she intended, but not the message he wanted to hear. He sneered and stalked out of the room, causing the reader to pause in his monotonous tirade, an act unnoticed by the sleepy crowd. Kitty bit her lip in self-disgust. She really liked Levin. Why couldn't he understand that she was doing this for the promotion of her future? Couldn't he understand that as Kitty was losing some petals, she needed to find a supportive and good husband before she wilted completely? She would go after him, and make him understand.  
  
~ 13 ~  
  
But Levin understood more than she thought. Once he deciphered Kitty's actions, he realized that there was little hope for such a beauty. How could she be so superficial? How could her thoughts be bent on so trivial and meaningless a thing, the lesser of the four Bohemian ideals? He clenched his hand together, almost as if he holding on tightly to his pain and surprise. Maybe this pain he felt near her had become such a part of Kitty, that to lose the pain would be to lose his goddess. But she was as corrupt as any Olympian deity. And she was no Chloris. She could not defend her honor if she had none. Levin curled his upper lip, and was sinfully pleased when he saw the look of horror on Kitty's face. He turned sharply on his heels and walked out of the room, stepping lightly and attempting to stomp at the same time. The resulting thump resonated through the quiet room. Levin hoped that every beat drove itself cruelly into Kitty's heart, if such a thing could be found.  
  
~ 14 ~  
  
Levin had already created a path a few lengths from the door when he felt a small touch on his shoulder, as if a friendly dove had lighted on him reassuringly. He turned around with a smile, but it quickly became a frown. Kitty was standing there, her large eyes imploring and confused.  
"Konstantín, what happened? Why did you leave so soon? Was the poetry not in your taste, or did you find my company unwanted?" She pursed her lips slightly at the end of her speech, and allowed the bottom lip to quiver, which beyond giving the look of pity, translated into a pathetic countenance in Levin's eyes. What was she thinking? Levin looked down at his open, cold hand. Blisters had formed from working on his farm, leaving his palm bitter and hard. It would be so easy.. It would all end. all the pain and-Levin quickly came to his senses and stuffed his newly clenched fist into his breeches pocket. His face softened involuntarily, and his eyes lost their depth, as he began to drown in Kitty's beauty and innocence. He stumbled for words before he finally began.  
"I was merely surprised, my dear Kitty. I had thought that we were to spend some time together, but you had seemed to believe otherwise." Levin stopped slowly, studying Kitty's face, and looking for an answer.  
"Oh, Konstantín. It was necessary, don't you see? My image is shattered since I have been gone. I must think of my future. Of my future husband." Kitty finished this declaration with a flourish, as if it was the most obvious statement she had ever made. Levin's jaw worked and he mouthed soundlessly, while he seemed to swell with fury; his eyes turning a stormy dark gray.  
"Do you remember the question I asked you a very long time ago, right before your trip?" Levin struggled to get his emotions under control. He was a Stoic at heart, and an unnecessary outburst would not help him at this time. Kitty blinked furiously, her conscience wandering inside her head, looking for the answer to Levin's question.  
"Oh yes, I remember now. You asked me to be your wife. What a silly question that was. You are a very nice person, Levin, but I would never marry you. You have no social prestige." Levin stare disbelievingly, mutely shaking his head.  
"Is that all that matters to you?" he asked in a deadly whisper, his words dripping poison. "Social status?"  
"Of course," replied Kitty, this new attack only fazing her for a minute. "You were much too poor when you asked me the last time." Levin was still dumbfounded, and stalked away, shying from the imagined flutter of white gloved finger, leaving Kitty standing alone to slowly ponder Levin's replies, her face turning ash gray when she finally realized that Levin still loved her.  
  
~ 15 ~  
  
The following day Kitty awoke early in order to meet her friends in the village. After a short afternoon spent perusing the markets, they conversed for a long while in the lilting style so common with the ignorant. But soon that talk turned in a way Kitty did not foresee or wish.  
  
"Katerína, there has been talk that you are seeing that countryman who calls himself a noble again. Is it not true?" Kitty's friend, Elizavéta asked slowly.  
"No, no of course not, Betsy. I indulge him for the sake of our old friendship, but we have never reached any level higher than that. Nor do I wish that it will." Kitty was almost panicky. She would not lose her reputation over petty rumors.  
"Well, now is your chance to prove your words," said Marya, another of Kitty's friends. "Because he is right over there."  
Kitty turned suddenly, the breath catching in her throat. Levin was indeed standing by a small flower shop. He had noticed Kitty, but gave no glance of recognition or hope. He was beyond hope.  
"This is a futile exercise. I said I do not think anything of Levin, and I stand by those words." Kitty glared at her friends with level eyes, but her slighting quivering lip told her friends that she was bluffing. Elizavéta shook her head slowly.  
"No, I don't think so, Kitty darling. Do us this little favor, for your friends." But the speaker's eyes betrayed the denotation of her words. Kitty had to denounce Levin or her friends. She chose the former.  
Kitty slowly rose from her chair with the air of a queen, and her face was just as blank and unreadable. Levin saw her through his frost- covered eyelashes. He made no obvious movement, but his jaw worked slightly, and his scared eyes darted from the vision her beauty to his right, and the lily, whose color matched his face, he was supposedly examining.  
"Konstantín, it is, as always, a pleasure to see you, but I am afraid your trip here has been wasted." Levin was attempting to gulp down his nervousness. How could she stand there, so composed, when he was ready to prostrate himself at her feet, craving alms from such an angel. "For you see, it is hopeless for you to love me, for I will never return the favor," she continued, the coldness of her voice reflecting in the falling snow flurries. "How can you say this?" he stammered. "Are these your true feelings?" Her nodding head made a Siren's howl echo through his mind until he noticed the "no" that could plainly be discerned in her eyes. His brows knit together inquisitively. Perhaps was her father forcing her to say these things? But no, her father liked Levin, and hoped for a marriage. Then who? He searched Kitty's face for an answer. Just then Kitty darted her wide eyes to her friends, who were seated a dozen yards away, watching intently. His emotions caught in his throat, where they smoldered, and then returned with red sparks of anger. His eyes flashed, and Kitty took a half-step back. Kitty was again concerned for her self-image more than her true feelings for him. She would again break his heart to bring her pride a notch higher. His cheeks rose slightly in a silent snarl, and his eyes narrowed. "You choose your friends, Princess, very well. Now we say farewell." Levin bowed courteously, but his eyes never left her pained face. He lurched towards his carriage, and his dark silhouette was soon lost in a tempest of small snowflakes. Kitty returned to her friends, who tried to congratulate her on her fortitude, but she merely replied that she wasn't feeling well. She returned home, where she sat for not a few long moments staring at the fire built in the cheery parlor. After even the tongues of flame began to accuse her, she moved to the entryway on her way to her room. She found a plain white envelope on the table there, which contained a hastily written note in handwriting she recognized as belonging to one of Levin's servants. It merely said that Levin was returning to his country home, and wished Kitty a long and prosperous life. Levin had signed it at the bottom in the quick, sharp script he reserved for business transactions. Kitty clutched the letter to her, and ran up the long stairs to her rooms, where she collapsed on a crimson colored sofa, sobbing into the forgiving silk. 


	2. Part 2

Part II  
"Vengeance is mine; I will repay."  
~ 16 ~  
  
Kitty awoke that morning to find one of the many minute dogs that haunted the mansion licking the dried tears from her face. She gently shoved the yapping creature aside and sat up, slowly massaging her temples with trembling hands. Since Levin was gone, she would have no choice but to be happy with what she had. Her friends now trusted and loved her more than ever, and she still had her father and her pride. She forced an angelic smile on her pale face, and walked to the door with the intentions of changing her rumpled clothes, and then paying a visit to her older sister, Dolly.  
  
~ 17 ~  
  
The serenity of the country house was no comfort to Levin. He paced back and forth along the marbled floors like an angry dog. How could she be so shallow? How could she be so cruel? She had to understand she was wrong. It seemed even God himself couldn't change her manner. True, he still loved her, and nothing could ever change that. But it was her fault; she was the cause of his pain! A thought flitted through his mind, but was quickly ushered away by fear and self-loathing: Kitty had to pay. His eyes opened wide, and minutes passed as he stood in utter shock. Tears course down his cheeks, to be lost in his tangled beard. How could he have blasphemed against his angel? Levin blinked rapidly, and the world returned to focus, and to numbing cold.  
And yet. that was the only idea his troubled mind had ever conceived of that made sense. He wasn't to blame. It was she. Levin turned and strode quickly to the stables, his boot heels clicking faintly, and echoing in the hall bereft of all but Levin's angry thoughts.  
  
~ 18 ~  
  
Kitty had arrived at the Oblónsky household early that afternoon, but was informed by her little nephew that Dolly was out for the day. Disappointed, she returned to her home, and spent the remainder of the day barricaded in the library, content to peruse the various works of Dumas. She would often simile when she read these books. She was Madame Bonacieux, staunchly waiting for her lover and savior. She was Haydee, her love and respect for her benefactor shining in her eyes. But in reality, she was simply Princess Katerina. While these fanciful thoughts danced through her mind, her father quietly opened the library door, and stood for a moment watching his youngest daughter. When Kitty looked up, he smiled at her, and informed her that dinner was ready. Kitty got to her feet, and followed her father outside of the room.  
After eating her fill of an extremely fine goose, she asked her father what he thought in regards to Levin returning to the country.  
"Haven't you heard Kitty darling? Levin has returned to Moscow. No one knows whether he has immediate business here, or he just enjoys the city life. Are you alright?" During the prince's speech, Kitty had grown pale. Her eyes slid out of focus, as if she was trying to see something far away. She snapped her head towards her father's voice when he questioned her.  
"Yes, of course, papa. I was merely lost in thought." After a final sip of French wine, Kitty took her leave of the dining room, leaving her father much more puzzled than he had been when Kitty first entered the room.  
  
~ 19 ~  
  
Levin collapsed on his bed in his elegant city house. He had spent the past three-quarters of an hour pacing around the oriental ambience of his study. When the swirling colors refused to cease when he stopped stalking, he retired to his much more boring but certainly less confusing bedroom. A tired sigh heaved from his chest, and he glanced up at the regal clock placed by the window. The black marble hands suggested 1:37, but Levin knew that was wrong. The hour had to be later, had to be past mid- day. The clock had to be wrong. Levin blinked his eyes clear of misty thought, and called for the servant who governed his city house by ringing a small ebony bell. A short, balding man with graying hair and the look of a biblical prophet materialized within seconds.  
"Ah, Leo, there you are. Deliver this letter for me, if you please."  
The serving man bowed, and replied with "As you wish, sir." He took the letter in a gnarled hand, and limped from the room, his arthritis sending minuscule jolts of pain up his left leg. Levin watched him go and smiled. Now she would, even if he didn't understand it all. But the dark place in mind that thought up wickedly pleasing thoughts was happy. He had taken the first step. He would fix it. She would soon know he loved her. She would be scared, but he would always love her, and he knew love could cancel fear. Levin closed his eyes, and leaned back against the goose-down pillows, his eyes becoming lost in the dull silver of the curtains. Then sweet encompassing darkness took hold, followed by sleep without dreams.  
  
~ 20 ~  
  
Kitty rose early the next morning. Why had Levin returned to Moscow? Did she need to tell him again that there was no hope for them? The first time had nearly broken her heart. She could not bear it to do it again. She lay in bed for a few moments, letting the early morning sun dance around her room in rhythm with the birds' song. A maid flitted like a shadow into Kitty's room, leaving behind a door's creak and a silver platter upon which rested a bowl of winter fruit, some nut-dusted scones, and a single letter. Kitty rose from her bed, and walked over to the small table, picking up a strawberry while slitting the seal on the note with a polished fingernail.  
Her fingers went limp when she opened the note and recognized the handwriting as Levin's. Her eyes grew wide, and she drew her lips tightly together. The untidy scrawl spelled out: I will always love you, dearest Kitty. I will love you until you are dead. There was no signature. There was no need for one. Was this Levin's idea of a cruel joke, or was he serious?  
"Kóstya, what have I done?" Kitty murmured to herself. She put the note on the table, fighting to keep her arm steady. She rubbed her face in her hands, not noticing that the juice from the dropped berry made red whorls upon her temple, contrasting starkly with the white of her face. She raised teary eyes to a small vanity mirror, stared long at her face. How could she make Levin stop? Or was he so past reason that nothing could help him? Her shoulder shook as she wiped her face on a clean handkerchief. With a final sniff she raised her head, arching her neck in the proud, pompous manner she loved to flaunt. She crumpled the note and flung it into the rekindled fire. Levin couldn't scare her. She wouldn't let him. With a satisfied nod towards the curling ashes, Kitty walked stiffly from the room, letting the red-stained handkerchief float gently to the carpeted floor.  
  
~ 21 ~  
  
Levin ran shaky fingers through his tangled hair as he stared at the pen in his hands. He had to say just the right things, just the right words. Kitty was coming closer; he could feel her looming presence. He almost had her, could almost reach out and grip a fistful of her curling hair. He didn't know what he wrote. He poured out his soul onto the paper, and was surprised to notice that his hand only wrote 15 words on the ink- blotted paper. "I will love you until you are gone. I will never be whole without you."  
It was the truth. Levin felt empty, incomplete. Something was missing from his life. He could conceive of only two ways to stop this. The first being that Kitty fell in love with him, and married him, and lived happily with him until age claimed them both. The second was much more likely in Levin's eyes because he believed Kitty was incapable of having feelings, as he believed she lacked a soul. He loved a beautiful demon, and empty shell that would pull him down with her. Either way, Levin would save her, and save himself from her influence. He bobbed his head up and down, pleased with his work. He sealed the envelope with a wax drip, and then pressed it to his chapped lips, letting his hopes and aspirations pour into the letter and fill it with good. He drew a deep breathe and stood up, moving towards the doorway with the intention of seeing his letter sent that morning, so Kitty would be able to feel Levin's thoughts while she prayed over dinner. He would save her and save himself.  
  
~ 22 ~  
  
Kitty spent a pleasant day with her aunt from the country. They had visited all the parks around Moscow, and Kitty's aunt seemed as if she was having a good time. Kitty's cheeks were still flushed with laughter when she returned home. She greeted her father briefly, and then retired to her room. Her face fell when she noticed a letter placed on her desk. She had forgotten all about Levin. Now the thoughts and fears came searing back into her mind, erasing all happiness left over from the day. She didn't want to know what Levin felt or thought. She wanted this all to go away, to disappear like a bad dream. But kitty knew she didn't have that luck. She reached down, her face unreadable, and took the letter up in one white hand. Digging her nails gently into the paper, she regally ripped the note to pieces, until all that was left was a pile of shredded memories. Levin could not break her, no matter how hard he tried. She would always be strong. She would continue her life, and drive all thoughts of him from her mind. To prove this to herself, she gathered up her warm clothes and placed them by the door, with the intention of going to the skate rink the next day. Levin always followed her there, in thought or person. But this time he would not be there in either form. Levin was merely a ghost, and Kitty had never been frightened of ghosts before.  
  
~ 23 ~  
  
Kitty arrived at the skating rink the next day in a good temper. She glided around the frozen pond for a few moments, before scanning the faces of the onlookers for friends. Or foes. Seeing no one she wanted or didn't want to see, Kitty grinned, and turned around. Her smiled faded when she noticed a figure standing in the snowy forest. She blinked rapidly, moving her head in quick shakes, and skated away, but turned to look again some yards later. Yes, there was someone standing there, but it couldn't be him. It couldn't. Her hopes were dashed when she realized the person in the woods was staring straight at her. She moved slowly towards the edge of the rink, her mind racing the whole time. Where was she safe from him? Kitty drew in a breath, and skated off the pond, heading for where her valet had stopped. She would go on, and leave him as a shadow in the cold, dark woods.  
  
~ 24 ~  
  
Levin sat at a small side table, quietly sipping a glass of red wine. He could see Kitty from where he was. See her laughing and joking with her friends. The same friends who had pushed Kitty to be cruel to him. They were bad. Kitty was worse. Kitty would pay, and they would compensate with tears. Levin smiled at the thought, and then gulped the last of his wine. A waiter silently placed another glass in front of him, and Levin nodded his thanks. He continued staring at Kitty, dark thoughts drifting lazily in his tired brain. Suddenly she turned towards him. She saw him there, and quickly averted her eyes. Levin allowed a smirk to play across his face. She was scared. She should be. She had been scared early that day, when she noticed Levin at the ice rink. Levin was wearing her down. He would never leave her alone until she left him alone. Kitty leaned towards one of her friends to say something, and then rose gracefully. Levin sighed. She was the most beautiful demon ever sent to plague God's green earth. But then, isn't that the way of the devil? To fool men with beauty? Kitty walked towards the doorway, allowing herself only one glance towards Levin. His eyes never left her. Levin slipped a banknote from his pocket onto the table, and stood stiffly. He moved silently towards the exit Kitty had taken, stopping only when he saw her shadow in the foyer. He ducked behind a column just in time to see her look towards the door, perhaps to see if he was following her. Levin heard her sigh. Perhaps she thought she was safe. How wrong she was. Levin leaned out to see her run to her carriage. He would leave her alone for tonight. She had had enough stress. But there was always tomorrow. and she would get his note tonight. She would really be afraid. Perhaps for no reason, though. Levin did not know himself if he was serious. If this was the only answer. But at least she would know. She would know.  
  
~ 25 ~  
  
Kitty raced into her home, leaving the valet puzzled in the empty drive. She clutched the stitch in her chest with one gloved hand while steadying herself by clinging to the small table in the hallway. She slowly calmed herself down, taking deep breaths and closing her eyes. Maybe she could sew her eyes shut. Then she would see nothing but light shadows, and memories replayed sadistically in her mind. She shook her head, thinking that that wouldn't solve anything. She would have to find a way to stop Levin. There had to be a way to reach him. Somehow. Somehow she needed to. About to turn around, she noticed another letter left for her on the table. Feeling too exhausted and stressed to be truly scared, she picked it up and tore the envelope apart, unfolding the recently battered note enclosed. In Levin's characteristically messy handwriting was written: "I can't help loving you, but I will make the feeling stop." Kitty's hands began to shake, contrasting with the paralysis of the rest of her. She was afraid to know what Levin meant, what he was planning. But that could wait until tomorrow. Now she needed sleep. At least she could wake up from bad dreams.  
  
~ 26 ~  
  
Levin waited silently outside the theater. Kitty had gone in to see a performance with her father. Levin hoped it was terrible. But whether it was or not, Levin knew her day would cease to be happy as soon as she saw him. It had over a month now. Over a month since she had finally broken him. Now it was his turn to break her. She had not seen him yet today, or rather he had not chosen to make himself visible. But she would see him tonight. Levin was allowing sadistic thoughts to fly about him mind when he noticed the theater beginning to empty. Housewives in costly furs that didn't compensated for their homeliness gave themselves airs while being dragged to carriages by their husbands. Then he saw her. Prince Dmítrievich held her arm gracefully as the two conversed quietly, all the time heading to their carriage. Then she looked up. Levin grinned, his smile hidden by a fur collar. It would happen again. She would continue on, acting as if nothing had happened, always casting quick glances in his direction. Then she wouldn't be able to sleep, her mind polluted by thoughts of him. He had tried so hard to be on her mind easier in the year. How easy it was now. Kitty did exactly as Levin had predicted. When her father seemed to notice her odd behavior, he glanced around the plaza, but did not recognize Levin in the sea of snow and winter coats. He pulled Kitty to their carriage, and she seemed to snap out of her lapse in awareness. She seemed to grip his arm harder, and then stalked forward, leaving Levin with no doubt that almost had her. She was so close. Now it was time. Now she would know he had been serious. He still had doubts himself, but he trusted that they would consume themselves. Tomorrow.  
  
~ 27 ~  
  
Kitty awoke the next day with two shadows on her face. The manic attention from Levin being the first, of course. But to add to Kitty's grief, it was February 19, the anniversary of her mother's death. She wanted to forget them both and sink into her dreams where she might find some comfort, but the morning breeze through the curtains dried the tears on her face and seemed to remind her that dawn had broken, hard and cold. She rose from her bed, and rinsed her face in a porcelain basin. She would go to the cemetery to pay homage, and think. A girl could always trust on her mother for wisdom and advice, and the only thing Kitty needed more was peace of mind. As Kitty believed one of the two to achieve the third, she prepared herself for the day. Dressed in a well-fitting dove-gray dress, Kitty walked to the foyer. She selected a heavy black overcoat from the closet and donned it before stepping quietly into the brisk cold.  
  
~ 28 ~  
  
Kitty walked slowly, reaching down every few moments to snap a white snowdrop from the ground. These flowers, always the first to appear at the end of the snows, were always favorites of both Kitty and her mother. They seemed to remind everyone that there was a spring after the cold snows of winter. They were comforting. And comfort was just what Kitty needed. As she bent down again, she heard the faint click of a boot heel on the road. Shrugging it off as another pedestrean taking an early-morning stroll, Kitty continued on her way. Soon she reached the wrought iron fence that surrounded the graveyard. She could see angels etched in the metal. Cold angels that seemed to deter rather than welcome. Kitty shivered in the cold, wishing that none of this had ever happened. Her mother, Levin, none of it. But she couldn't change the past. Kitty pressed a thin finger to the etchings, tracing them slowly and deliberately. The frosty metal drew shivers up her spin. But when she took her hand from the gates the shivering didn't stop. She turned around her, just to see a large figure dart behind a lamppost. Kitty froze with fear. She did not tell anyone that she would be coming here. And it was so early in the day that the chances of a passer-by coming to her rescue were close to none. Kitty began to walk quickly, moving through the graveyard, all her hopes dwelling on reaching the constable's office that was barely 100 yards away. She quickened her pace when she saw Levin walk through the gates, his gait matching her own for speed. Kitty broke out into a run, and the pounding footsteps behind her told her Levin had done the same. Kitty dodged through the headstones, feet just grabbing purchase in the slippery, wet grass. While passing a white marble angel, her flailing scarf caught on its wing, bringing Kitty to a prompt stop. She dragged the choking garment from her neck, coughs racking her chest, and continued running. Kitty knew her strength was almost gone. She knew in her heart that Levin was aware of this as well. He slackened slightly, but still continued to gain on her. The Constable's office was now only 20 yards away, and Kitty could pick out the individual rungs on the cemetery's outer wall. Then her foot found a hidden pothole, and the rest of her body followed. She collapsed at the base of a headstone, her chest heaving. The sun was just capping the horizon as Levin advanced, pulling a small firearm from his large over-coat. His face was illuminated in the fresh sun, and his insanity seemed to have stretched hate lines in his kindly face. But the past would make no difference here, Kitty thought as she shut her eyes tightly. There would be no saving. There would only be an end.  
  
~ 29 ~  
  
Levin grinned crazily down at her. Finally, she had understood him. Finally she had listened. She was listening to him now. Hearing the low, content growl issuing from his throat. Now he had here. He had won. She had lost. And there was no stopping him now. Kitty's frantic sobs rent the air, but he couldn't hear them for the singing in his heart. He lowered his blood- shot eyes, and raised his arm slightly. But then he did something for which he had scolded himself since he was a boy. He let his eyes wander. And in that second of bad judgment, he noticed where Kitty had fallen. She had fallen at the foot of her mother's grave. He could make out the words Princess Márya Shcherbástky. Beloved Wife and Mother beneath the creeping mold. Kitty wasn't to blame for this. It was her mother. It was her mother who had first told Kitty not to play around with someone as low as Levin. It was her mother who had ruined everything. Levin was wrong. Before him was truly and angel. He had blasphemed against his creator for ever wanting to hurt one of God's beautiful creatures. But devils, like the older princess, were fair game for his hatred. He felt tears run down his cold face as he relived every moment in which he had mentally tortured Kitty. Haunting her footsteps, trying to drive her mad. But he finally realized that it was he who was mad. He was mad to have ever thought that he could heal his pain by harming so innocent a creature. But now he knew how he could heal it forever. He knew how to solve everything. And this answer seemed even plainer than the first solutions he had arrived at earlier that year. It was so simple.  
  
~ 30 ~  
  
Below him, Kitty had ceased sobbing, and was looking up at Levin quizzically. What did he plan to do? What evil and saydo-masochistic thought was running through his head? She did not have long to wait. Levin looked straight at her, or at least it seemed he did. The rising sun came up behind him, leaving him as nothing more than a black silhouette against a blinding brilliance. He aimed the gun straight at her head, and Kitty shut her eyes again. A series of shots rent the air, and the only sound remaining was Levin's labored breathing. Kitty opened her eyes slowly, and found Levin still standing over her. She was covered in white dust, which seemed to have fallen from above her. She looked up and saw that the name that was once imprinted upon the headstone had almost been completely punched out by bullets. Kitty barely recognized the flowery script, and realized that she was at her mother's grave. She looked back up at Levin, and saw that he was swaying slightly, as if it took so much effort just to stand. He looked straight at her, and this time she saw his face as the sun had had time to climb a bit higher in the now rosy sky. His eyes were pained, and his mouth moved, but no sounds came out. Finally he cleared his throat with a cough and opened his mouth again. "I'm so sorry, Kátia. Please forgive me." Kitty couldn't say a thing, but could only watch helplessly as Levin pulled a long dagger from his coat. "I'm sorry," he whispered again before plunging the blade into his gut. Kitty screamed, and kept screaming although she knew no help was forthcoming. She saw Levin fall to his knees, blood running through his fingers and his lips. Kitty stopped screaming and crawled over to him, pressing white fingers to his red-stained wrist to find a pulse, but has no luck. He was gone. Kitty sank back to the ground, her face screwed up in pain. She put clenched fists over her eyes, then removed them when she felt Levin's blood dripping down her face. Why had she been so cruel to him all this time? She had driven him mad, and he had returned the favor. She opened her eyes and saw that the snowdrops she had gathered were in a crushed heap on the ground. Blood had dripped from her hands onto the bruised petals, and now tears fell from her face to trace patterns in the freshly crimson dew. She got to her feet shakily after arranging the flowers in front of her the old princess's defaced grave. She looked down on the marble and then gestured to Levin's spread-eagled body. "Well, mother. I certainly hope you're happy now." With a final moment spent in quiet, Kitty slipped away, a ghost among the headstones. She walked out the way she came, this time not bothering to close the gate. It swung back and forth behind her, leaving nothing but emptiness and a windy void. Both of which could have very well been Kitty's heart.  
  
The End  
  
Thanks first of all to Neritic Nebula who goaded me along the entire time I've been working on this (I think a year and a half now. Sad, isn't it?). Now I will return the favor and bug her until she finishes "Blackest Star," "Midnight Flame", etc. her HP fanfics. Also to encouragement from my sister who read it and said it sucked. *translation: not bad at all* And finally, to Mr. R. I wrote this in the hopes of being able to spite you one day, and so I have. I figure that is a pretty good formula for success, because I wrote my kate chopin essay last year to piss you off, and look who was first place freshman. Those authors I hero-worship who must also be mentioned: Cassandra Claire, Dan Brown, Michael Connelly, Michael Crichton, JRR Tolkien, Oscar Wilde, Shakespeare, and my fav: Alexandre Dumas. Thanks for reading and putting up with my random writing!  
- Rhysla 


End file.
